


Love Drunk

by hailynx



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-03
Updated: 2013-01-03
Packaged: 2017-11-23 12:06:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/621948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hailynx/pseuds/hailynx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drunken words come from sober thoughts. Will Fushimi ever let Yata know what he really thinks, what he really feels?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Drunk

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own K Project.  
> Please do not translate or repost/reupload.

Drinking with his co-workers is one of the many things that Fushimi Saruhiko dislikes. However, he has always been stuck with it because of the authority they have over him. Fussy seniors were another thing amongst others that he dislikes. That night, Fushimi suffers from both of them at once. He is forced to pick up one cup after another and then to drown it down. Thankfully, he is never able to get drunk. It is like a curse wrapped within a gift. While Fushimi knows that he needs to be sober to get home, he also wishes that if granted drunkenness, all of his problems would go away.

 

Fushimi knows that both have its pros and cons but he always believed that getting home is probably the more resourceful ability to have. Therefore, he pretends to be a little bit tipsy as he waves his seniors off. They say something about work—something about tomorrow and he just nods without actually taking it in. He hates paperwork as well so if he has a chance to avoid it, he’ll take it. Pretending to be drunk so he could dismiss it, works well enough.

 

When his seniors disappear at the corner, Fushimi heaves a sigh and massages his temple, hoping that it’ll take away the conflict. When he deems that it doesn’t, he pushes his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and begins walking back down the old road. _Home could wait,_ he thinks to himself, he wasn’t drunk after all. Fushimi takes a familiar course. His memory works well, even in this state. Every few steps, he halts and turns to look at the corner where he sees Yata.

 

The mirage is as good as real. Then as if the event was replaying itself again, Yata’s lips parts slowly. Fushimi only needs to hear his name, not the insult that comes after it. It doesn’t really hurt. Fushimi hurts in a different way, for a different reason. He just likes to take a kick in the different ways he can make Yata call out his name.

 

_“Saru!”_

 

Fushimi moves on. At the next corner, there is a Yata that is slightly older than the previous but is less torn and tattered. The shabby roads, dirty walk paths and old buildings that are threatening to fall apart shadows many of their memories. Fushimi has been wondering for a while now, why he and Yata does not have any good memories at all. Alley ways haunt them and they’re all pretty bad in his opinion. Unless of course, Fushimi takes into account that for once, Yata is giving the attention back to him.

 

_“What did you just say, you bastard?”_

_“Didn’t you hear me?” Fushimi questioned in a tone of indifference, “I joined SCEPTER 4.”_

_“What for?! Why’d you betray us?!” Yata’s violent side kicked in and he shook Fushimi by the collar, “Why did you join the Blues, of all people?” His eyes landed on the mark of insignia. “Did you forget that this mark is a symbol of our pride? You have this engraved on your chest so why would you?”_

_“‘Pride,’ you say?” Fushimi’s fingers had lit up flames. In a matter of seconds, he had managed to burn the insignia. “There goes your pride, Misaki.”_

 

Fushimi forces himself to walk on. The next part has almost nothing to do with him. The moment Suoh Mikoto’s name escapes from Yata’s lips, he wants to stop listening. It doesn’t really work when he likes Yata so much though. Fushimi continues his walk with one hand in his pocket and the other on his blade. He allows the breeze to lead him to a place he had once called home (for Yata’s sake). He ends up clicking his tongue in annoyance at the memory. He does not want to set foot into the bar that screams HOMRA, smiles and laughter that does not belong to him—that is not produced by him or for him.

 

Fushimi stares at the bar that sits in the distance and thinks that he could just burn it all away. However, before he even gets to planning it, chirping sounds distract him. Normally, he stays. Normally, he stands his ground just to piss Yata off, but today, he hears more than one voice. Quickly slipping away into a smaller space, Fushimi watches as Yata steps into view. He’s definitely the drunk one out of the two of them.

 

Fushimi watches as strands of ginger hair flutter before Yata’s voice dies out and he lands on the floor with a thud. Fushimi manages to take one step forward and then two steps back. Before he’s managed to step back into the moonlight, Kusanagi is already rushing to Yata’s side.

 

“Who’s on duty for carrying Yata today?” Kusanagi asks with a sigh. Fushimi can tell that he’s ready to light a new smoke.

 

Eyes dart around for Kamamoto but he is nowhere to be seen. Fushimi hears them argue about whom will take care of Yata and his hands shake profusely. If they didn’t want Yata, just hand him over—wait, that’s not even right. _Give him back_ , is what Fushimi wants to tell them. There is no need to talk about what a bad drunk the guy is. Again, as he takes one step forward, he takes another two back. In the midst of all the arguing between the HOMRA members, their King steps up the game. He offers to carry Yata back to the bar by pulling the smaller boy up and tossing him over his back.

 

Fushimi feels as though he’s watching another replay. His mind starts wondering about the kind of smile Yata will show if he finds out his beloved King carried him on his back. He wonders how bright the shade of red will be on Yata’s cheeks as he realises just how close he’s been with the Red King. Unconsciously, Fushimi is scratching at the old and burnt insignia. He doesn’t even realise that his nails have started to dig into his skin. His eyes are focused on the sight of someone else touching _his_ Yata and they beg to burn.

 

Then the Red King turns right in his direction. Although hidden pretty well, their eyes meet and there is no gleam in the King’s eyes but Fushimi feels irritated anyway. As much as Fushimi hates the Red King, the exchange of gazes confirms for him that Yata will be looked after. They break away and Fushimi steps back, further into the darkness. His hands slip towards his sides and he sways a little as he walks.

 

He’s not drunk but his steps are unsteady. He’s not exactly sober either, but as usual, when the day ends like this, Fushimi is glad that he is unable to be drunk. He’s a little tipsy and his steps fumble every now and then but he manages to get home. He strips himself of the blue uniform and falls onto his bed. He’s not drunk so sleep won’t fall upon him straight away. He’s a little hurt and he knows that he’ll still be hung over regardless. Fushimi shoves his glasses to the side and dips himself into the comfort of his bed. He closes his eyes and dreams of Yata.

 

He’ll wake up tomorrow hung over and the cycle will repeat. That’s okay though. Fushimi knows that he’s only love drunk.

 

_Fin._


End file.
